The Remarkable Tale of Winter Holmes
by onelittledreamer
Summary: When Sherlock falls from St Bart's hospital, Winter feels as though her life is in ruins. But when she finds out he's alive, how far will she go to find him? This is the story of Winter, the youngest and bravest of the Holmes', and her challenging journey to find her brother. (Post Reichenbach, w/ references to s4)
1. The Day he Fell

A few moments ago my life was perfectly peaceful:

I was enjoying a nice cup of tea on a nice sunny morning. It wasn't too hot yet it wasn't too cold, and a slight breeze blew across the skies. I lay in bed. Calm, content. My hands were resting in a praying position just beneath my chin. I was thinking. I thought quite often. About many different things. Like why my windows open outwards rather than inwards. Why the sky is blue and not purple or orange or pink.

I sighed and reached over to my bedside table. Picking up my phone I clicked on the 'news' app. That was when it began. That awful, wrenching feeling in your gut that makes you want to threw up in fear. The headline on page one was unmissable. My jaw dropped in horror and I lay there, waiting. I don't know what I was really waiting for. Reassurance, perhaps? Someone to pinch me and tell me that it was 'all just a dream'.

Well, that never happened. As much as I wished it would. Because my life had just been changed on that one eventful morning. That was it.

That was the day that my brother, Sherlock Holmes, died.

—

 _The next day._

When I woke up the first thing that hit me was a wave of immense anger and pain. It startled me, but I brushed it aside. I mean, what did it matter? What did life matter? What was the point of it all? Of course mum and dad would know. And Mycroft.

I didn't feel the cold strike my bare feet as the slapped against the tiles.

I didn't feel the warmth of the water over my body as I showered.

I didn't feel the softness of my favourite jumper.

I was having breakfast when the doorbell rung, but still I sluggishly stumbled my way over. I opened the doorway, the blaring noise of a helicopter burning my eardrums. In the doorway stood Mycroft.

No sounds were uttered, no words were spoken, but that didn't matter. Mycroft simply opened his arms and into them I fell, sobbing drastically into his shoulder. But he didn't mind. He just held me close to him and tightly, rubbing my back.

—

I sat in a chair in Mycroft's office, staring into space.

"How are you feeling, Winter?"

I looked at him, my face blank. "How do you think?"

"I won't know unless you tell me, sister of mine."

"SHERLOCK'S DEAD!" I shout. Through the doorway I glimpse I few astonished expressions. Mycrfot sighs and quickly shuts the door.

"Sherlock's dead." I whisper. "My brother, my best friend is dead and there's nothing I can do about it. I don't… I don't know what I am without him. He was always there for me and I never even got the chance to tell him and…how are you not overwhelmed with emotions, Myc?"

"All hearts are broken, Winter. Caring is not an advantage."

"I can't help it!" I exclaim, suddenly furious.

"You need to calm down. What would Sherlock think if her saw you like this, hey?"

"You're right." I reply glumly.

—

So that's all for my very first chapter! What do you think? Do you guys like it?

PLEASE REVIEW! Should I keep going?

Imogen xxxxxx


	2. The Home of Mycroft Holmes

Mycroft was kind enough to let me stay at his house. It resembled a palace, with spiralling pillars arching through the air, majestic windows allowing beams of light to soak the empty hallways, and billowing curtains that blew from the breeze that drifted inside.

"You can sleep upstairs, if you like. I have three bedrooms on the third floor and one in the attic. As for me, I shall be sleeping in my room on the second floor."

"Thank you," I told him earnestly.

"It's fine, Winter. I do tend to get rather lonely around here so it will be nice to have you for company," He admitted. "Oh, and I can send someone to get your clothes from your house. Anthea!"

I slim, pretty young woman entered the room, phone in hand. "Yes sir?"

"Send a helicopter to my sister's house and bring her clothes, please. I trust you to make a good decision."

"Yes sir," She nodded at him, and smiled at me before leaving the room.

Mycroft turned to me. "Now go on, I know you want to explore."

I grin, momentarily forgetting my sadness as the urge for adventure consumed me.

I wandered through the hallway until I came to the kitchen - if you can call it that. It was more like a giant room that buzzed with chefs cooking up arrays of exotic dishes. I breathed in the delicious flavours in delight and skipped off to see the rest.

On the first floor, as well as the kitchen there was a workout room, a movie theatre and a lounge room with a gorgeous chandelier. There were also three meeting rooms with lots of chairs and giant projector screens.

Upstairs there was Mycroft's room and office. And, much to my delight the biggest library my eyes have ever laid upon. I gasped in delight as I entered, the walls teaming with books.

"I thought you'd like that," A voice echoed from behind me.

I spun around to find Mycroft smiling at me.

"Mycroft, this is amazing!" I hugged him. "Thank you for letting me stay here."

"Anything for you, dear sister. Oh, and I think you should find the attic. I know you will like it up there."

I beamed and, completely ignoring the third floor (which was just bedrooms anyway) made my way up to the attic. Pushing open a small blue door I enter the attic and the room instantly makes me feel happy.

In the corner there is a small bed, with white sheets and fluffy pillows. There's a book shelf piled high with books from every genre, like a mini library! There's a walk-in-wardrobe and ensuite bathroom. And a little window seat below a huge window which looks over London. I smile, pushing the shutters open and letting the wind brush over my skin.

"Oh Sherlock," I sighed sadly and looked out over the city he loved, feeling the quivering of it's pulsing heart beneath me. "Why did you do it?"

—

And that's all for this chapter!

Thank you to everyone who favourited, followed and reviewed.

PLEASE REVIEW! Feedback is immensely appreciated.

Imogen xoxo


	3. The Letter

He jumps.

One minute Sherlock's standing on the building.

The next it's as though someone's paused a video and he's stuck in mid air.

Then he falls.

And lands.

Dead.

And it happens over and over and over and o-

I gasped, wrenching myself upright, tears pooling in my eyes. I couldn't sleep, I just couldn't. Whenever I closed my eyes I just saw him. I saw my brother dying repeatedly. I pushed the covers of and scraped my hair out of my eyes. I grabbed my phone: 3:42, it read.

Too early to get up, but too late to get back to sleep. I sighed.

I opened up the window and sat on the window seat; watched as an ambulance wailed past a few blocks away, listened to the cries of birds and the faint buzzes of car engines. I shivered. It was beginning to get colder as Winter nears and mid November approaches. I slipped into my ensuite and slid out of my nightie, the white lace clinging to cool beads of sweat. I turned on the water and stepped inside, a sense of warmth provided me with comfort.

After my shower I changed into a pair of skinny black jeans with the bottom tucked up, white sneaker, and a red jumper that's just a little too big for me. The jumper belonged to Sherlock when he was a teenager, and I kind of inherited it. I inhaled the scent of it - it smelt like Sherlock, but also of old books and ash and sunflowers. As I went to grab my hairbrush I glimpsed myself in the mirror. As always, my eyes appeared a startling shade of blue. My dark brown hair sat just above my shoulders, slightly wavy. My skin, like Sherlock' and Mycroft' was quite pale, but my cheeks had a slight pink tinge to them.

Grabbing my phone and wallet, I stuffed them into my pocket plugging my earphones in and pushing them into me ears.

And then I climbed out the window.

—

You might be thinking: wait, what?

Yes you heard me right.

I did climb out the window.

And onto the roof.

When Sherlock and I were little, we would sneak out onto the rooftops at night, seeking adventure. We would jump from house to house, quite frequently landing with scraped knees or grazed elbows.

Nothing could stop us. We felt unbeatable. Unconquerable.

We would dance across the rooftops as the night sky fell upon us.

I smiled as the memories faded. Taking a step forward, a began my journey. I jumped across buildings, breathing in smoke from fireplaces as it drifted up from chimneys. The sun started to rise but I didn't care; I was at peace with the world. After about an hour of wandering around aimlessly, I decided to go for a walk. That is, a walk that doesn't involve jumping from rooftop to rooftop. I found a little ladder and quickly scaled down the building, jumping and landing in an alleyway. I slid against the wall, taking a moment to catch my breath.

"Miss Winter Holmes," I heard a voice say.

Startled, I whipped my head around to come face to face with a homeless man, carrying a note and a pile of blankets.

"Who the hell are you?" I demanded.

"Me name's Bill. I'm part of Shezza's 'omeless Network."

I frowned in confusion. I didn't know anyone called Shezza and I had no clue what a "Homeless Network" was.

"How do you know my name?" I demanded.

"Good ol' Shezza said to give this to you." He extended his hand and revealed the note to me.

I grabbed it, slicing it open with my fingernail. I recognised the handwriting immediately.

"Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes gave this to you. WHEN?"

Bill pondered. "Ahh… A week ago? 'ang on, I think it was the night before he, er, jumped."

My eyes glistened with tears. "Thank you." Holding the letter tightly in my palm, I made my way into the busy London streets. I checked the time: 7:04 streets had a distinct smell of cigarette smoke and coffee burnt into their walls, and for some reason the strange scent comforted me. I walked through Trafalgar Square and sat on the steps the led up to the fountain. I opened the letter and slowly, carefully, began to read.

 _My dearest Winter,_

 _Hello there little sister. If you are reading this then the worst has happened, and I am sorry for any hardship I have put you through. I know Mycroft believes caring to not be an advantage but in some instances, he is quite wrong. The reason you are alive and well is because I care for you. Yes, I said it. I know I am not one of sentiment but you are an exception. I have established a network of homeless people all through London who I trust to keep you safe. If you ever need help, protection, anything - ask them. I paid them a considerable sum of money to keep an eye on you and look after you so do please take advantage of this. I do not expect to have a funeral as I have not exactly impacted many people in a positive way. Please, remain strong. Do that for me. And make sure Mycroft sticks to that diet of his, we don't want him getting fatter than he already is. I have a friend, Doctor John Watson. Yes, I know, me? A friend? Go to 221B Baker Street. Mrs Hudson the landlady will let you in, tell her you're my sister. If you ever get sick of Mycroft go there. Watch out for John. Most importantly, stay well and out of trouble._

 _Sherlock Holmes_

I wiped my eyes absently. My heart ached with the absence of my brother, my best friend. He may have had a drug issue, a drinking problem, and been a highly functioning arrogant psychopath, but he cared for me. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I groaned when I saw the number.

"Mycroft what do you want?"

"Winter Ruby Eve Holmes get back here right now!"

"Mycroft please, can't I at least have a moment to myself? I'm going to end the call."

"I've already sent a helicopter to pick you up."

"A hel- how do you even know where I am? I could just walk you know!"

"I have my ways, and I highly doubt you'll come back without delaying. Farewell."

I groaned as the blaring blades of a helicopter sounded from above me. The helicopter landed, many people turning and staring at me, their hands over their eyes.

"Miss Holmes," The man bowed at me, holding out a pair of headphones. I just gave him a small nod and quickly slipped inside the helicopter. Oh no. I really hoped that no-one heard him call me Miss Holmes, otherwise people will really start talking. Agh, for a secret service, Mycroft's people certainly knew how to make a not-so-secretive entrance.

—

I really hope you liked it! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE review, favourite and follow!

Thanks so much to the people who messaged, reviewed, followed and favourited my story I appreciate it so so so much!

A/N: THE LYING DETECTIVE WAS SO AMAZING BUT SO EMOTIONAL I CAN'T EVEN DEAL AHHHH!

—


	4. The Chase

"Mycroft, what do you want?" I rolled my eyes in exasperation.

I was standing in his office, accompanied by two of the men who escorted me from the helicopter.

He glared at me. "What do you think you were doing, running away like that? Do you have any idea how worried I was? I've already lost Sherlock and you know what happened to Euros, and I don't want anything to happen to you!"

"Mycroft, look -I'm sorry, but you can't just lock me up in a room all day! I want to get out and live my own life before it's over."

Mycroft put his head in hands, saying.

"I must admit I have been quite harsh on you -"

"THANK YOU!"

"-But jumping from rooftops is quite frankly unacceptable. If you want to go out, fine. Just ask me and I'll get one of my agents to monitor you." He stood up. "I know that I have to let you live your own life, but I just don't want anything bad to happen to you. Your loss would… your loss would break my heart."

My jaw promptly fell upon.

"Don't act so shocked, I'm your older brother. It's only a natural for me to feel concerned."

"Who are you and what have you done with Mycroft Holmes?" I joked. "Mycroft, I'm going to go out. There's something I need to do. And don't worry, I'll be careful." I gave him a quick hug, and before he could say a word I flew down the stairs, only to bang right into … the prime minister! I drew back in shock, but before I could utter an apology, Mycroft appeared.

"I am terribly sorry about that. This is my little sister, Winter."

"No harm done, Mycroft. Pleasure to meet you Miss Holmes." He shook my hand before he turned to my brother. "I heard what happened to Sherlock; terribly sorry for you losses."

"Thank you for your concern. Now, let's go upstairs, shall we? Good bye Winter." Mycroft walked away and I walked out of the building, tired and hungry.

"Hey you! You there. STOP!"

I turned around and gasped at the sight that lay before me. A group of about fifteen people were wading towards me, all dressed in deerstalkers. _Oh my,_ I though. _My brother's got himself a fan club._

A man, clearly the leader, addressed me. He had scruffy hair and a shaggy beard.

"I'm Anderson, Phillip Anderson, the founder of the Empty Hearse Club. We saw you talking to his brother and we believe that Sherlock's still al-"

"Oh no…" I groaned.

"What?"

"You're not Anderson, are you? As in Anderson "Anderson", the forensics guy that my brother always talks about on his website?"

He straightened his deerstalker absently. "Yes. Yes I am. Hang on - your brother?"

I froze, mentally cursing myself. Oh dear, if the press found out about this then they'd really start to talk.

"YOU'RE SHERLOCK HOLMES'S SISTER?" The group exclaimed, which caused passers by to stare at me.

"Yep." I grimaced.

"His sister?"

"Uh-huh."

"He has a younger sister?"

"YES HE DOES and if you don't shut up about it I'll snap your wrist. Believe me, I'm easily capable of it."

Anderson gulped.

"Now if you'll excuse, me I must be off." I quickly turned and walked away.

—

I'd been walking for about five minutes, hoping I'd lost them amidst the bustling crowds. I really wasn't in the mood for running. To my dismay, however, when I looked behind I realised they were still following me, the tops of the deerstalker bobbing above the heads of people in the crowd. Dammit. I was going to have to run.

So I did. I ran. And they ran after me too. "Wait! Miss Homes come back!" They cried. Oh boy. The press were surely going to talk now.

Soon a crowd began to form as I dodged through the streets of London - some people even had cameras. I didn't want to phone Mycroft - he would be annoyed at me for drawing such attention to myself. That was when I spotted it. The street sign: Baker Street. Hang on a second, I thought. 221B Baker Street was where Mrs Hudson and Dr Watson lived. I sprinted through the street until I came to 221B, and thankfully the door was unlocked so I let myself inside, firmly bolting it behind me. I sighed in relief. Suddenly, a very frightened looking woman scurried towards me.

"Who are you? W-what are you doing in my house?" She demanded, shaking slightly.

"Oh, I'm sorry I'm Winter, Winter Holmes. Sherlock's sister. You must be Mrs Hudson!" I held out my hand to shake.

Mrs Hudson dropped the cup of tea she was holding with a shriek. "Sister? He has a sister!" She started screaming ecstatically and I couldn't help but laugh.

"Mrs Hudson? Mrs Hudson!" A voice sounded from up the stairs as a man who looked to be in his mid-forties came rushing down. "I heard you scream. Is everything alright?" He spotted me. "Who are you?"

"That- t-t-t-t-that's his s-s-sister!" Mrs Hudson spluttered out.

"Sorry what? Who? Who's sister?" John looked extremely confused.

"You must be Dr Watson," I smiled. "Pleasure to meet you. I'm Winter, Winter Holmes."

John's jaw dropped open, his face plastered with an expression of shock, utter shock.

"Sherlock's sister?" He choked.

"Yes, I'm his sister. If you don't mind, I'll need to stay here for a bit."

John regained his composure. "Um, why?"

I sighed. "Anderson's established a Sherlock Fan Club of people who believe Sherlock's still alive. I kinda let it slip that I'm his sister and they chased me for about two kilometres . Anyways, soon I crowd kinda began to follow me. Mycroft also picked me up by helicopter this morning which drew even more attention to me, annoyingly. So eventually there was a crowd of press and crazy fans running after me until I finally found Baker Street. Sherlock left me a letter telling me that I'm allowed to come here if I ever need to, if that's okay with you?"

"Of course dearie. You can go upstairs if you like, I'll bring you both a cuppa."

"Thank you," I told her sincerely.

I followed John upstairs to 221B. A small "oh" escaped my mouth as I took in the sight that lay before me. Sherlock's gun was on a table, shrouded by papers and random materials. His dressing gown was draped over the top of a comfy looking armchair. Finally, his violin lay on a small desk by the window. I walked over, gently kneeling down and moving me fingers over the strings. I sighed. God, how I missed Sherlock. But Sherlock wouldn't want me mourning. He'd want me to be living my life to my full extent and trying my hardest and not letting anything stop me from succeeding.

I refused to let the tears fall.

I refused to let him down.

—

YAY! Did you like it? SORRY FOR THE EMOTIONAL ENDING!

I'm going on holiday for a week so I'll update as much as possible. Please bear in mind that I don't know if i'll have wifi…I REALLYYYYY hope I do! And I'm so excited for the Final Problem ahhh!

Only a couple of chapters before Winter finds out the truth - yay! 333

THANK YOU LOADS FOR ALL THE REVIEWS, FAVOURITES AND FOLLOWS!

Your lovely feedback is greatly appreciated.


	5. The East Wind

"Yoo hoo!" Mrs Hudson burst into the room with a tray piled high with sandwiches, tea and biscuits.

I leapt up from my spot and grabbed a sandwich. "Ah Mrs Hudson you're a saviour!"

"Ah, it's no trouble, dearie!" She patted me on the shoulder and went to take a seat on the sofa, John joining her. I sat in one of the chairs.

"Were you close to Sherlock?" John suddenly asked.

I looked up at him. "Yes. Yes, I was. We were best friends when we were little. I'd spend most of my time with Sherlock, and he'd dress me up as a pirate and play with Viktor."

"Viktor?"

"Oh, he was Sherlock's best friend. Of course Mycroft was spend a lot of time with Eurus before … you know."

"Sorry, what?"

"You know, before Eurus was exiled to Sherrinford because of, um, what she did."

"Sorry, but who's Eurus?"

"You know - Euros? My older sister? Means the 'east wind'? God does she love to be dramatic."

But their faces remained blank, not recognising the name.

My eyes widened as I realised. Mycroft hadn't told them. They didn't know. "Um, it doesn't matter. Forget I said anything. Forget I told you that name. Please."

"Are you telling me you have another sibling? Two secret siblings?" John and Mrs Hudson stared at me in shock.

I gulped, standing up quickly. "Um, I really should be going it was lovely to meet you two! If you ever need anything just give me a call!" I quickly stood up, scribbling my number on a piece of paper and sticking it on the table. I practically jumped down the stairs and threw open the door, only to be greeted with a huge crowd of press.

I shut the door and wrenched my phone from my pocket, dealing Mycroft's number urgently.

"What is it now, Winter?' Mycroft's voice drifted through my ear.

"I need you to come get me."

"Why? What happened?"

"Well I accidentally told John and Mrs Hudson about Eurus -"

"You did WHAT?!"

"And the press kinda found out about me being your sister -"

"They found WHAT?!"

"So I need you to pick me up from Baker Street. They're surrounding the-"

"BAKER STREET!?"

"Yes! Seriously, please stop yelling my ear drums are going to explode! Please can you come and pick me up?"

"Fine. I'll be there as soon as possible."

"Thank you." I noticed John coming down the stairs. "Got to go, love you." I quickly hung up.

"Why did Sherlock never mention you?" John peered at me curiously. "I mean, it's obvious you're his sister: The cheekbones, the dark curly hair, the penetrating eyes."

"Listen, John. Sherlock couldn't tell people about me. He just couldn't. If people knew about me then they'd use me as a way to get to him, and Mycroft. When one of your brother's is…was… the best detective the world has ever seen and the other is, essentially, the British Government, the things people can do to get to them is quite horrifying. There was an incident, a few years back. I was with Mycroft and Sherlock and some people tried to kidnap me, hold me hostage, use me as bait, force me to spill secrets no-one should know. Secrets that protect the security of the country. I obviously objected, and, well…" I shifted my sleeve off my shoulder slightly to reveal the long, deep scars that danced over my back. John's eyes widened as he got the message. I sighed. "My brothers found me of course, but swore an oath that they would do whatever it took to ensure my safety. So I lived in Oxford for a while, in a small country house. But when Sherlock…after Sherlock jumped…Mycroft has let me live with him for extra protection, and also, I guess, to look after me."

"Oh."

The whir of a car engine startled us both, and we opened the door a crack to find Mycroft, followed by two of his secret service'. The pressed parted immediately to make way for Mycroft, capturing the event with the click of their cameras and the flash of their lights.

I opened the door for him and his men before shutting it tightly. He stared at me, eyes piercing straight through me. I bit my lip, expecting him to yell, scream at me for letting the secrets about me being his sister, and about Euros, slip.

What he did next astounded me.

He step forward and gripped me in a tight, sincere hug. I squeezed him back, grinning.

"Woah woah woah." Joh held up a finger. "Weren't you the one who said "caring is not an advantage."

With his arms still around me, Mycroft glared at John. "Yes, I was and I stand by my word. However, I am able to make one exception." He turned to me, taking a hold of my hands. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, Myc, I'm fine." I brushed his concern aside.

"Myc?" John shrieked, a little alarmed by Mycroft's compassion and nickname, so it seemed.

"Come now, Winter. Let's get going, shall we?" Mycroft gave John a small nod, before protectively placing an arm around my shoulder and leading me outside. His men stood either side of us, and Mycroft held me tight. I slipped inside the car, the flashes of the cameras blinding me. I gently rested my head on Mycroft's shoulder, as tiredness began to consume me and I slowly fell into a deep slumber.

—

 **A/N: Aw - I love Mycroft and wanted to show his softer side! Thank you so so so much for favouriting, following and reviewing! I am endlessly grateful for all your support and lovely feedback. *Virtual hugs.***

 **Lots of love,**

 **Onelittledreamer xxx**


	6. The Confrontation

I yawned. Open my eyes blearily I found that i was surrounded by a moss of white pillows and blankets. The memories of yesterday crawled back into my mind. I sighed.

It was time to face Mycroft.

—

I knew that he would be working his office so I decided to go for a walk to meet him. I really didn't want Mycroft's service to take me out again; that just caused way too much attention. I had already showered and was changed into faded blue skinny jeans with the bottoms turned up, and wore a white collared shirt with a pale pink sweater over the top. I scraped my hair into a high ponytail before slipping into my white sneaker and grabbing a pair of sunglasses for disguise. Wait… I decided to toss the sunglasses back onto my bedside table. It was an overcast, stormy day and wearing sunglasses would probably just draw more attention to me. I skipped down the stairs, taking them two at the time before heaving open Mycroft's huge front door and facing the world.

I scanned the streets for any bobbing deer-stalkers. Thankfully however, the coast was clear. I quickly began the walk to the Houses of Parliament. Mycroft's (well, more like really really really big room where he worked) was situated on the top floor and had an excellent view of London. And when I say it was situated on the top floor, I actually mean that it basically took up the whole of the top floor!

When I finally made it to the building, I was greeted by a very stern looking security guard. I was about to step inside when he stopped me.

"Your I.D., Madame, if you please." He held out his hand expectantly.

I shoved my hand inside my pocket…but it was empty. Oh no. I must have left it at Mycroft's home. I was in trouble.

"Ma'am, if you do not present your I.D. I will have to send you out of the building.

I started to panic. I needed to talk to Mycroft and close the gap of tension between us as soon as possible.

"Excuse me," A posh voice sounded from beside me. I turned, and to my astonishment, saw none other than Lady Alicia Smallwood.

"This is Mycroft's sister, surely you know that! She's with me, now let her through!"

The security guard nodded and let us pass, as i let out a huge sigh of relief. As soon as I was inside, Alicia, very unexpectedly, pulled me into a warm hug.

"Winter, my dear, it's so lovely to see you!" Lady Smallwood had always been like a mother to me, and looked after me a lot when I was little and had to stay with Mycroft because mum and dad were busy.

"You too." I smiled at her.

"You're here to see Mycroft, I presume?"

I responded with a nod.

"Come. I'll take you to him."

She took my hand and led me up a tall, spiralling staircase.

"So how old are you now?" She asked.

"I turn sixteen in two days!" I smile at her. I was quite a bit younger than Sherlock and Mycroft, which meant that many people considered me to be Mycroft's daughter, not sister. I did, however, look a little older than my actual age which meant many people mistook me for an adult. It meant i could get away with a lot more things!

"And here we are." Alicia's voice startled me back into reality as we arrived at Mycroft's office. She knocked on the door.

"Mr Holmes?" She called.

"Come in," Mycroft's muffled voice spurred us forward. She opened the door, and out poured a small group of MP's.

"Well, I best be going now." Lady Smallwood turned to me. "Lovely to see you again." I gave her a little wave before slipping into my brother's office.

"Oh!" Mycroft exclaimed in surprise. "Winter. What are you doing here?"

"I came to apologise. I know I've been difficult to deal with lately and I'm really sorry for all the trouble I've caused you. I had no idea that John didn't know about Euros. I didn't mean to let word out that I was your sister. I never intended - I never imagined that Anderson would find out. And I'm honestly so sorry." I blurted out.

"Winter, it's alright. I forgive you. I know how hard these past few weeks have been, following… following _Sherlock…_ " He said the name quite tentatively, "And you should be allowed to live your life how you want. It is hard to forget that you're… fifteen years and 362 days of age. It seems like only yesterday you were born."

"You forgive me?" My eyes lit up.

"As much as I disapprove of your actions I must admit that there would be no point in holding a grudge. It would only be a waste of time." He pondered.

"Thanks Myc!" I ran up to him, tackling him in a hug. I was determined to transform Mycroft from the stone-cold-ice-man he was into a loving person. I knew he had it in him. I'd seen glimpses of it in him. But there was a day, years before I was born, that changed how he and Sherlock saw the world and interacted with everybody.

"Listen, Winter I have an urgent meeting that I must depart for. It seems I am required at Buckingham Palace."

"May I walk with you there? I promise to leave when you have to go inside."

"Of course. Come on."

—

And that's it for this one!

I realise that I've updated extremely quickly and earlier than normal but that was only because of the absolutely lovely reviews I've been getting and urges to update! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR REVIEWING, FOLLOWING AND FAVOURITING!

It means a lot to me. This being said, I may start to post less frequently in the coming weeks as I am going back to school...yay...

But your kind words and actions make me want to persist! So please keep it up and I promise I will too!

Onelittledreamer xxx


	7. The Library

The sun unfurled it's rays and branched light unto the world below it. The last drops of rain fell and the clouds parted to make way for the sun. I smiled as I skipped along the streets of London, splashing through the puddles.

"Mycroft, what are we gonna do about John? He knows about Eurus now!" I told him.

"I've had one of my agents sneak into the flat and put an amnesia pill in his tea. It should be strong enough to erase the last ten minutes of conversation you had with him, but not enough so that he forgets meeting you entirely. I've done the same to Mrs Hudson."

"Aw, thanks Myc!" I hugged him and continued to skip alongside him.

"It's fine, Winter. Honestly. Listen, I'm going to be up late tonight as I have a meeting of the upmost importance. How about you go back to my house? There's one room on the second level that I am most certain you will love." He smiled warmly (well, as warmly as Mycroft could manage) and swiftly whipped his phone out of his pocket.

"Send a car to Buckingham Palace to pick up Winter. Yes… alright… thank you."

He faced me. "Come Winter, let's go."

He gently wrapped his long arm around my slim figure as we walked to the palace.

—

"Mycroft," I nudged him in the side. "Erm… the paper's over there…" I nodded in the direction of a newspaper stall, where an old man was selling them. On the cover of one was a picture of Mycroft and I as we ducked into the car to leave 221B. On another paper was a snap of me. Great. "The Detective's Secret Sister," it read. I sighed. As we merged into the crowds that surrounded the palace a few people spotted us.

"Hey!" One person called.

"Can I please have a photograph?" Another girl pleaded.

"Omg, those are that detective guy's siblings!" A few kids exclaimed.

Mycroft took a hold of my hand and firmly veered us away. We managed to reach the gates of the palace safely, where Mycroft addressed one of the guardsmen. He recognised Mycroft immediately and opened the gates to let us inside.

That only drew attention to us further. I mean, if you saw a strange man and a fifteen year old girl being granted access inside Buckingham Palace without even a moments hesitation, wouldn't you wonder?

"Winter!" Mycroft called, as my eyes darted around, absorbing the scene around me.

"Yes?"

"The car's here. I have to go now, but I will see you soon."

I smiled softly and wrapped him a a tight hug. Mycroft stiffened, yet relaxed quickly as he returned the gesture of sentiment. "Bye!" I cried and before the press could arrive or the people could bombard me, I swished through the gates and swiftly flopped into the car.

I was overwhelmed the second my eyes set sight upon the luxurious room presented before me.

Mycroft's house.

Second floor.

Last room on the left.

Woah.

When I say a room, what I actually mean is a whole world crammed into a space of 20x20 metres. The tall walls were stacked high with books of ever genre, every edition and every author. The shelves were organised relative to the categories, and then alphabetically stocked according to the authors. Three huge arched windows were enhanced with billowing red curtains that draped elegantly down the walls. Window seats conceived around the wall, like a snake waiting for it's prey. Blankets woven of utter silk and pillows flushed the shade of fairyfloss enticed me into their hollow.

Dancing through the corridors, I spotted a shelf of mystery novels. I scanned the covers, grabbing a rich scarlet one, that was leather bound and smelt of coffee and must. I pulled it off the shelf and walked over to a small window in the corner of the room. The curtains were drawn, creating an atmosphere of cosiness. I stretch a pale blue blanket across my legs, reconciling in it's warmth, rejoicing in the comfort it provided.

Yawning wearily, my hands found the corner of the book.

" Of Promise and Petals," it read.

Instantly intrigued by the alluring title, I ventured forward and greedily flung it open. But the sight the lay before me did not read, "Dedicated to…" It did not bear the title "Prologue" or "Chapter One". What lay before me was so gutwrenching and shocking that my heart stood still in my chest.

There were the forty six pages that were going to bring me pain.

There sat the very files that would grant me hope and prosperity.

There read the three words that were about to change my life.

I am Alive.

Did you miss me? Did you miss me? Did you - miss me?

A/N: Sorry sorry sorry! Im sorry I've been away for so long ahhhhh. I just started school again and it i me ughhhhh. Anyway, did you like it? Please favourite, follow and review! Your kind actions truly make my day and keep me wanting to persevere. And sorry about the cliffhanger - I just couldn't resist. Eeeeek! Ill post the next chapter ASAP! Promise xoxo

Thank you again, Onelittledreamer. :)


	8. The Spider and his Web

A/N: Please follow, favourite + review! I haven't been receiving much feedback lately, so should I continue? Thanks sincerely to all my reviewers, favouriters and followers! I love you so much 3

Two days, 9406 kilometres away - Tokyo, Japan.

If you were outside at precisely 3:04 am in the bustling city of Tokyo, you would have seen two figures racing across the streets as though their lives depended on it. That's because they did. A short, Japanese man decked in traditional samurai clothing was chasing a tall, thin man with a blossom of black curls.

His name was Sherlock Holmes.

Mr Holmes was a dignified man who came from a wealthy household. He also doubled as a high-functioning sociopath, a consulting detective, and sometimes (but very rarely), he assumed the work of a secret agent. Like now.

James Moriarty was a spider in the centre of a web. Although Sherlock had killed the spider, the web still remained and it would keep on being woven unless Sherlock Holmes could dismantle it. Now he was running. He was running away from Sirina Kunyo, the deadliest Japanese assassin alive. He had already managed to take down the other members of Kunyo's team, but Kunyo's skills were advanced and his martial technique ancient.

And so Sherlock was running for his life - jumping from buildings, flying over rivers, soaring through the skies. He already knew that Kunyo had a weak left knee. He could tell from the way he staggered slightly on his left leg and that his right had slightly more toning. There were slight read marks on his left leg suggesting he'd had a surgical attempt. So, when Sherlock neared a construction sight and saw that there was a hole in the road, he swiftly moved out of the way with such agility that Kenya was astonished. His momentum did not allow him to stop. So he fell. In the hole. And Sherlock closed it.

He sighed. He was absolutely exhausted and famished. But he had no time for sleep. And he had no time to eat. So he trudged away into the night.

But.

There was a noise.

Out of the darkness, his phone beeped; a message from Mycroft.

"She knows." Those two words were all it took to cause Sherlock's heart to palpitate frantically in his null chest. He had left his younger sister clues about his death as it hurt him too much to put her through the pain of losing him. But he hadn't estimated that she would find out so quickly. He knew that she'd be looking for him, but at this stage in his mission, contact could potentially be life threatening. He would have to go back to London. He would have to keep her safe.

Four days later.

William Sherlock Scott Holmes was back in London. But nothing was as it should be. He'd practically sprinted to Mycroft's house from the airport, frantic and desperate to find Winter. Too make sure she was alright.

"Where is she? Mycroft! WHERE'S OUR SISTER!?"

Mycroft simply sighed at him wearily. He looked up from his desk, eyes bloodshot and shadowed by dark crescents.

"Isn't it obvious?" His voice was quiet, detached. "She's run away."

Sherlock froze. "B—b-but dont' you have your secret service out looking for her? Haven't you traced her phone? MYCROFT TELL ME YOU KNOW WHERE SHE IS?"

"I gave her a new phone for her birthday three days ago. It wasn't set up and I don't know her number. She's far more intelligent than us, Mycroft. He IQ is impossibly high. She will outrun my agents. We've been searching for four days straight but there it no sign of her. None at all."

Sherlock felt his whole world collapse.

"What?" Mycroft scoffed. "Don't tell me you're getting sentimental now, brother mine?"

Sherlock ran from the room.

And he felt his heart break.

A/N: Sorry for the emotional rollercoaster! I just really wanted to prove that Sherlock was capable of emotions and that he really cares for Winter. :) Ill update soon! Xxx Promise :D


	9. The Silent Shadow

Five days earlier.

It was four in the morning when Mycroft got the call.

He was exiting Downing Street after a tiring call of the utmost importance with the prime minister.

His felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

"Hello?" He sighed wearily.

"Mr Holmes, sir. It's your sister, Winter. She's gone."

Mycroft dropped the phone and ran.

It was the night of Winter's birthday. But she didn't feel any older.

Or happier.

Or happy at all.

She felt angry alone afraid and terrified. Genuinely, literally, scared.

Her brother was alive. Her best friend was alive. And for the past months, her life had been in shambles, in ruins, because her eldest brother, Mycroft, completely mislead her. He lied to her. LIED LIED LIED. Told her that Sherlock was dead. Almost convinced her. Mycroft Holmes: He was nothing more than a LIAR. A complete and utter traitor.

She despised him.

But she loved him…

Because he was, no matter how hard she wished he wasn't, still her brother. She couldn't let Mycroft know that she'd discovered the files, the clues that Sherlock had left her. No. She mustn't let him know. She would escape at the dead of night, when the house was still and her brother sound asleep.

She'd kept her actual all day: the innocent sixteen year old who knew nothing at all and had nothing to be afraid of. Ha. Mycroft was thick! She couldn't believe he'd fallen for that. Winter already had her bag packed, her leggings on, hair up and coat buttoned.

All the information regarding Sherlock's 'death' was on her phone - she'd scanned all the maps and documents. She left a note for Mycroft so that he knew she had actually run away and not been kidnapped … or worse. She had an adequate sum of money in her wallet - she couldn't risk using her credit card in case Mycroft had rigged it.

Winter Holmes looked around her room for one last time. Tears welled in her eyes at her betrayal of Mycroft. Yet again, he had betrayed her, keeping the fact that Sherlock was alive locked up inside of him. Taking one final breath, she nudged the window open. The cool breeze stung her skin like the pungent bite of chilli on an unassuming evening. Her hands gripped the sides of the frame firmly as she began to step into the flowerbed that decorated her window sill. The soil clung to her shoes as she flew into the thick black sky. As Winter Holmes crept, a silent shadow, little clusters of soil were scattered into the air.

This time she had no spring in her step as she milled over the rooftops and congressed the alleyways. She just did what her mind ordered.

She ran for Sherlock Holmes.

—-

I REALLY HOPE YOU LIKE IT! I love you all so much. Haven't been receiving many favourites, follows or reviews lately :( Should I continue? 3

Im really sorry for the lack of updating, but this past week has been extremely busy with trials and rehearsals and homework - basically just all that jazz.

Lots of love to all you Sherlockians XXX (and sorry for the short chapter)


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